Wild Roses and Salt Water
by nikolefreja
Summary: The young brunette girl arrived to the small farming village of Kattegat on a black horse. She was fleeing a neighboring village that had been pillaged and burned to the ground, the people she knew slaughtered. Now, a young woman of twenty-one years, she was searching for a fresh start. Kattegat, she had heard, was safe, and their Earl a kind man.
1. Chapter I

**_Disclaimer: _**_I do not own the TV show Vikings or any of the characters mentioned in this story—the only one I can call my own is my original character, Freja. _

**_Author's Note: _**_This story has an M rating for strong sexual content and some violence. It is the first of my stories that I am publishing. Please rate, review, and subscribe! Thank you for reading._

* * *

The young brunette girl arrived to the small farming village of Kattegat on a black horse. She was fleeing a neighboring village that had been pillaged and burned to the ground, the people she knew slaughtered. She had been orphaned many years ago but the villagers had raised her as their own. Now, a young woman of twenty-one years, she was searching for a fresh start. Before fleeing, she had been nearly raped by a man, and then surely he would have killed her too. Kattegat, she had heard, was safe, and their Earl a kind man.

"Who goes there?!" A large old bearded man shouted up at her as she rode into the village.

"I wish to speak with your Earl," she answered back, sounding as strong as she could.

* * *

Freja entered the great hall where she saw the Earl sitting on a throne, cleaning his nails with a knife made of bone. He was an extraordinarily handsome man — a warrior, no doubt. He appeared younger than most men of his title. He looked up and beckoned her to come closer, and so she did until she was a few feet away from where he sat. He looked at her with eyes bluer than the ocean and the sky.

"Tell me, girl— what is your name?" He asked with a slight tilt of his head.

"My name is Freja, Earl Ragnar," the woman replied, meeting his intense gaze.

"Why is it that you are here?" He asked as he set down the knife on a small wooden table beside his heavy throne.

"My village, Øresund, was burned to he ground," she explained, "All of my people were slaughtered...I barely escaped with my virtue intact. I have come to Kattegat to ask for shelter for I have nowhere else to go."

Ragnar pondered for a moment, absentmindedly playing with his beard. This young woman was beautiful, there was no denying that. He thought of the possibility of taking another wife, he knew Aslaug would not object. No, but Lagertha surely would not stay if he took on another wife. A third would be unwelcome. He thought of the possibility of giving this young woman to Björn...he was seventeen now, a man. This girl could not be older than twenty, he was sure. Of course, he could always put her to work as a maid of some sort.

"I am sure I can find a place for you here," Ragnar said after he thought of some possibilities, "Leave me and come back at sunset and I shall have an answer for you then."

"May I offer a suggestion?" Freja asked, looking up at the handsome warrior and Earl before her.

Ragnar raised an eyebrow, "What is your suggestion?"

"I wish to be a warrior," she stated, "Have one of your best men train me and I promise I will not disappoint you."

"You wish to be a shield maiden?" Ragnar said with a smirk, looking her up and down quickly. She was not tall, but she was not short. Her body was shapely, womanly. So was Lagertha's and she was an exceptional warrior.

"I do, Earl Ragnar," she spoke again, "After witnessing what happened to my village, and almost being a victim myself, I want to learn how to protect myself and others should I ever end up in a situation like that again. There is so much I want to learn."

"I shall grant you this, Freja," Ragnar said, "Leave now, you shall begin training at sunrise...Torstein will show you somewhere to rest for the night."

* * *

"You wished to see me, Brother?" The tall, bearded brunette man asked as he approached his brother, the Earl.

Ragnar smirked at his older brother Rollo, "I have a job for you...if you are up to the challenge."

"What is it?" Rollo asked as he tossed his bear fur cloak over a nearby chair before taking a seat on it. Did Ragnar want him to lead a raid while he stayed in Kattegat?

"A young woman arrived earlier this evening from Øresund...the village was destroyed and the people were slaughtered," Ragnar explained, "She claims to be the only survivor and she has come to Kattegat seeking shelter."

"How does this concern me, Brother?" Rollo asked as he raised his eyebrows.

"She has requested that I allow one of my best warriors to train her. The girl wishes to become a shield maiden." Ragnar's voice seemed to have a hint of humor in it, as if he found the prospect funny.

"And this task, training some young girl, is one you would give to _me_?" Rollo was slightly insulted. What did this mean? There was a raid to happen soon, back to Northumbria, training this girl would mean he would have to stay behind, "What of the raid?!"

"I trust that we shall all be ready within a month's time," Ragnar replied, "You are one of the best warriors, Brother. By training this girl you will also improve your own skill and strength for the battlefield. I hope that she can keep up with you."

Ragnar rose from his throne and began to exit the Great Hall. He smiled at the thought of Rollo's frustration. He knew that his brother was displeased with the idea of having to train a young girl to fight. After all, he was a true warrior. He did not spar with women— he fought ruthelessly, he killed. However, Ragnar knew that his brother would thank him later once he saw the beauty that was young Freja.


	2. Chapter II

Ragnar sat in his chair in the Great Hall with his first wife Lagertha by his side. Lagertha was a skilled and seasoned shield maiden and he intended for her to help Freja prepare for her training. He hoped that they could be friends.

"Freja, I hope you are rested," Ragnar said as the young brunette approached his throne, "I would like you to meet my wife, Lagertha. She will help you prepare for the day."

Freja smiled at Ragnar and then at Lagertha— she was beautiful. Her hair was like spun gold and her skin was the fairest. She looked like a kind woman, Freja could see it in her deep blue eyes.

"Lagertha. I am happy to meet you," she said, "I slept well, thank you, Earl Ragnar."

Lagertha rose from her chair beside Ragnar, "Come, Freja, let us prepare you for your day of training," the older woman placed a gentle hand on Freja's arm and began to lead her away from the Great Hall. Ragnar looked on as his wife glanced back at him with a smile.

"Are you who will be training me?" Freja asked as Lagertha led her into a large room, it appeared to be Lagertha's chambers, "I would be so honored to even be half the shield maiden that you are...I have heard so much."

"I will not," she replied, "Ragnar has asked his brother Rollo to train you. He is the best warrior that I know."

Freja wondered what this Rollo was like. She would find out soon enough. She sat down on a wooden stool and Lagertha stood at her side, putting braids into the side of her head in the traditional shield maiden style. The Earl's wife was acting as handmaiden to her, an orphan. How kind they were to her. When Lagertha was finished with Freja's hair, she walked over to a large wooden armoire and began searching through.

"Take off your dress," Lagertha said as she returned to where Freja sat, hold on what looked like mostly leather garments, "Luckily, we appear to be of similar size."

Freja nodded and began to undo the laces on the front of her wool dress. She let it pool at her feet and stood naked before Lagertha. She began dressing in the garments she was handed. Breeches, a tunic, a leather jerkin and leather boots that went almost up to her knee.

"Thank you..." Freja said, touching the braids in her hair as she looked at her reflection in the mirror, "You are so kind to me, Lagertha. I am truly grateful. I hope I will make you and Earl Ragnar proud."

"The world could use more women like us, young Freja," she replied as she looked deep into the younger girl's eyes, her voice taking on a serious tone, "Women who do more than sew, cook, and bear children. Women who are not afraid to fight alongside the men and defend our families—and ourselves."

"Why did you become a shield maiden?" Freja asked.

"When my mother became pregnant, my father went to a seer one night. The seer told him that he would one day be the father of a great warrior but that my my mother would only bear him one child," Lagertha explained, "My father was excited at the thought of having a son—a great warrior, he woke my mother up when he returned and told her of the seer's prophecy. When it was time for my mother to give birth, my father insisted on being in the birthing room. He wanted to be the first to see his little warrior come forth into the world. When the midwife delivered a girl, he was disappointed. He did not believe that he got the warrior that was in the prophecy."

"That is why you became a shield maiden. To prove the prophecy was indeed true," Freja observed.

"I did not need to prove the prophecy—it became as it was supposed to. Even as a girl I enjoyed doing things that were for boys," Lagertha smiled, "But yes, I suppose I did want to prove to my father that as a girl, I could still be just as good a warrior."

* * *

Freja followed Ragnar from the Great Hall out into the courtyard. Lagertha had helped her to prepare, from lending her the appropriate garments to doing her hair. She felt a bit of nervousness as they approached the sparring grounds. This Rollo, she hoped, would be as kind as his brother, the Earl.

"Brother?" Ragnar called out as he opened a wooden gate and entered, Freja following closely behind.

They could hear the sound of metal scraping together as they turned a corner which led them behind a small shed, the armory, it must have been. There sat Rollo, sharpening his battle axe. He looked up and his eyes quickly met Freja's before locking his gaze on his brother.

"Who is _she_?" Rollo asked Ragnar, once again glancing at the petite girl who stood behind him.

"Her name is Freja," Ragnar said, "She is the girl I told you about. You will teach her how to use weapons and teach her how to fight."

Rollo looked Freja up and down, eyes lingering on her womanly figure. She was a beauty. He hadn't expected as much. Her long chestnut brown hair had three braids woven in at each side of her head, similar to the style Lagertha wore when she went to battle. Her eyes, large and hazel colored, gave the appearance of childlike innocence. Her lips were full and a dark pink color. He looked at Ragnar once more and nodded, his facial expression still hard to read.

Ragnar smirked at his older brother. He could tell that Rollo was impressed with the appearance of the girl. He knew his brother, and he was always once to appreciate the beauty of a woman.

"Well, I shall leave you two to it," Ragnar said as he turned to leave. He flashed Freja a reassuring smile before turning the corner, leaving them alone behind the armory.

"Come closer, girl" Rollo said gruffly.

Freja nervously took a few steps forward. Rollo stood up, and she noticed how much bigger than her he was. He was a tall and burly man— his chest was broad and muscular and his arms were big. His long brown hair was tied behind his head and he had a thick beard. He appeared a hard man, a seasoned warrior, but his eyes had a softness to them.

"So, you wish to learn how to wield weapons, do you?" Rollo asked.

"I do," she replied, meeting his gaze.

"Have you ever held a weapon before? A sword or an axe?" He inquired, looking down at her.

"I have not held either," she replied, "I am good with a bow and arrow..."

Rollo raised a brow at her response. He hadn't expected this young girl to have any knowledge of weaponry whatsoever. She did not say as much to Ragnar. He pondered for a moment. A bow and arrow was a good weapon but having that one skill was not valuable on the battlefield. He would teach her to swing a sword.


	3. Chapter III

Rollo had spent the day teaching Freja the basics of using a sword. She was very eager to please and he was impressed with her enthusiasm to learn. Perhaps she would be ready to raid with them when the time came to sail back towards Northumbria. The thought of her dirty and covered in Christian blood was somewhat arousing to him. He smirked at the thought.

"Lagertha!" Rollo called as he saw the blonde shield maiden carrying a basket of harvested vegetables.

"Yes, Rollo?" She answered as she turned to face to him.

"Where has Freja gone to?" He asked, towering over Lagertha with his hands on his hips.

Lagertha smiled, "She has gone to the hot springs— first day of training with a warrior such as yourself, her body and muscles are surely aching."

Rollo set off to head towards the hot springs. He too, enjoyed soaking in the warm pools after a day of training, or when returning from a raid. They were a bit far from the village, Rollo wondered if Freja went there alone. Then, there she was and she was indeed alone. Bathing nude in a small hot spring. The air was thick with steam, he stopped before going further. She hadn't noticed him yet.

"Rollo! What are you doing here?" Freja asked, stunned at his sudden presence.

"My body aches too, girl" he answered as he took a couple steps forward.

He took off his cloak and then his boots. Then, he lifted his tunic over his head, exposing his muscular chest and abdomen. He was covered in scars from past battles and tattoos of Fenrir's sons, Hatí and Sköll, chasing the sun and moon. Freja tried not to look at him as he removed his breeches. She looked down at the steam rising from the water as he immersed himself across from her.

"Are you frightened of me?" Rollo asked, noticing her eyes cast down and blushing cheeks.

"I—I just did not expect you to join me here," she replied, "I thought I would be alone."

"In Øresund, did you have a husband?" He asked, genuinely curious.

"No, I was never married," she replied.

"Have you ever been with a man?" Rollo asked. She wondered why he was suddenly interested in her.

"Why are you asking me such questions?" She responded as she met his eyes, which she could tell were laced with desire.

"So you have not been with a man before..." He smirked at the thought. No wonder she seemed so nervous around him. He was an intimidating man to many, but this girl did not exactly seem intimidated, only nervous.

Freja smiled shyly at Rollo. He was a handsome man, a handsome warrior. She wondered why he did not have a wife and children. However, she had no doubt that he was an experienced lover. He exuded masculinity and raw sexuality.

"Rollo, are you thinking about kissing me right now?" Freja asked innocently.

"I am thinking about doing a lot of things," he said as he swam closer until he was less than a foot away from her. He put his large hands on her hips and turned her so that her back was to him. He pulled her to him so that she could feel his manhood.

Freja gasped at the sudden rough contact— a different type of rough than she had experienced with him earlier when he was teaching her how to fight.

"Feel that?" Rollo said with a animalistic grunt as he ground himself into Freja's backside.

"Rollo..." Freja moaned as she turned her head to the side. He grabbed her throat and kissed the side of her neck roughly. He was not a gentle man. She tried to turn around, she longed to feel his lips upon hers but he held her firmly in place with almost bruising force.

Rollo inhaled her scent as he buried his face in her tousled hair. She smelled sweet like wild roses and salty like the sea. He thought about taking her right there in the hot spring. She did not seem to reject nor reciprocate his advances. But he was a fearsome Viking. He could take her no matter what. He had done it _many times before_ with many different women.

"I want you, Freja," Rollo said, "Is this what you want too?"

"I do not know...I am not sure," she admitted, turning to face him.

She was so innocent, so sweet. Rollo was conflicted. Normally he would just take her anyway, even if she was not sure. But Freja was different. He felt differently towards her. He decided to wait and give it more time— _let her come to me, _he thought.


	4. Chapter IV

"Hello, Brother," Ragnar said as he Rollo took a seat at the table across from him, "How is Freja's training coming along?"

"She is very impressive, naturally skilled," Rollo explained, "She should be ready in time for our raid."

Weeks had passed since Freja had come to Kattegat seeking shelter. Rollo and her had trained together every morning at dawn and she was particularly good at wielding a sword or a small battle axe. Her movements were swift and fast. She was also becoming quite strong and could easily move while holding her shield in one hand and weapon in the other. Ever since their first day together, after that moment in the hot springs, the sexual tension between them was growing. Rollo had made no more advances and he could tell that she wished he would.

"What else has you so impressed by her?" Ragnar asked, "Have you taken her to your bed?"

"No—" he replied. He should just lie to his brother and say that he has had her. But he knew that Ragnar would find out from Lagertha that nothing had happened between them. Lagertha and Freja had become very close since her arrival. They had become fast friends, Lagertha taking the younger girl under her wing. Aslaug, however, was cold to Freja. She did not like her, clearly.

"Maybe you should take her as your wife," Ragnar said, "I am younger than you and I have two wives and I have fathered six children—five of them sons. Do you not wish to plant your seed in a woman?"

"I do not care for fathering children just yet," Rollo said.

"If you say so, Brother," Ragnar smirked, "I would take her as a wife if I did not already have two."

* * *

"Rollo?" Freja called, entering Rollo's small hut and looking around. She did not see him, perhaps he was out. She called again, "_Rollo?_"

"Here, Freja," he called from an adjoining room, voice sounding raspy.

He was sitting at his table, goblet of wine in hand. The room was lit by candles, as night had fallen and it was dark outside. The atmosphere was melancholy and he seemed upset. Freja took a seat across from him.

"Would you like some?" He asked, holding up his cup.

"Yes," she said, taking the goblet from him and downing the contents of it in one long sip. It was strong— stronger than any wine she had tasted before. She slammed the empty goblet down and Rollo smirked as he filled it.

"Why are you here?" He demanded, suddenly seeming annoyed at her presence. He was very hard to read most of the time.

"I—I...we leave at dawn for Northumbria," she began nervously, "Do you truly think I am ready?"

"Yes," Rollo stated, before drinking the rest of his wine. She wondered how much he had drunk before she came to see him. His face was flushed and his eyes seemed different.

Rollo studied the girl across from him, chest rising and falling. He could see the scratch on top of her left breast that he had accidentally given her while they sparred earlier that day. It had bled a little but she did not stop, she did not even acknowledge the cut. She knew that that was nothing compared to injuries she may receive on the battlefield during their upcoming raid. His thoughts suddenly drifted and he began to think— what if she did not survive. What if she gets herself killed. That was very common with men and woman alike, going on their first raid. He thought, tonight may be the last time that they are alone together. He wanted her. He wanted to claim her and make her his. Without even realizing, he reached over and grabbed her small hands with his. They sat there for awhile in silence, looking into each other's eyes, Rollo holding her hands reassuringly.

Suddenly, Freja was leaning over across the table and her soft lips were on his. His beard was rough on her delicate skin but she did not care. The kiss, took Rollo by surprise but he did not hesitate to return it with fervor. Rollo pushed the empty flagon and goblet off of the table and grabbed Freja's body, pulling her to him. She sat on the edge of the table in front of Rollo. His eyes were burning through her with a desire that she had never seen before.

"Take me to your bed, Rollo," Freja said beathily as he kissed her neck. He did not need to be told again. He picked her up and carried her to his bed. He set her down gently and hovering over top of her, attacked her mouth with his own in a kiss that could only be described as bruising and passionate. He forced his tongue into her mouth and she returned the bold gesture. She was drunk with lust for this man who she barely knew.

"I am not a gentle man, Freja," he growled as he ground himself into her, pinned beneath him. He wanted her to feel his growing arousal.

She knew what he meant. She had never laid with a man before and she knew that he knew that. She could feel his hardness through his breeches, rubbing up against her. She looked him in the eyes and nodded. She wanted to feel him inside of her, for she knew that the inevitable pain would soon after be replaced with pleasure. He began kissing, sucking, and biting hungrily at her delicate neck which caused her to moan and hiss at the sensations that she had never felt before. Pain and pleasure—this was only the beginning. She sat up just enough so that he could lift her nightdress over her head and toss it to the floor. She was now completely bare before him. He rose to his feet and took off his tunic and his breeches, his eyes remained locked on hers. He looked at her with such desire it made her tingle all over. Freja took in the sight of Rollo nude standing before her. She had trained with him many times whilst he was bare chested, but she had never really looked at him like she was at this very moment. Her eyes scanned over his muscular and hairy chest, impressive abdominals and then dropped down to his manhood—he was gloriously well endowed. She worried for a moment that she would not be able to handle his length and girth but those worries slipped away as he once again joined her on the bed.

"Are you ready?" He asked as one of his hands found her down where she was very wet. She needed him, she needed to feel him. As if he read her mind, he put one finger inside her and began to move it around before adding another. She moaned at the sudden invasion.

"Take me now, Rollo," she moaned as she felt him withdraw his fingers from her centre. He grabbed his manhood and stroked her entrance with it before he began to push into her—roughly, and then he remembered that she was not used to this. He would have to go slowly. She winced at the feeling of the first few inches of him entering her. She knew he was trying his best to not hurt her too much. He was also trying his hardest not to pound straight into her, hard and fast. He was not good at restraint.

Then, he did it. He pushed himself all the way into her, breaking her maidenhead as she cried out loudly in pain. He grunted as he withdrew a little before slamming back inside of her. There were tears coming from her eyes but he did not stop. The worst was over and now she would only ever feel pleasure from him. He set a rhythm with his thrusts, he was filling her up completely with his length. He could feel her walls clenching around him. Her cries of pain had turned to cries of pleasure as she raked her fingernails down his back, surely adorning him with scratches—marking him as hers as she was his. They came together, Rollo cursing to the Gods as he spilled his warm seed deep inside of her as she screamed his name. Rollo pulled the furs over them both as Freja rested her head on his chest. He absentmindedly played with a lock of her now tousled hair as she listened to his steady heart beat. If she was any other woman, he would have told her to leave by now. But she was Freja. _She was his._

"Freja," he started but when she did not respond, he knew that she had fallen fast asleep. After listening to her steady breathing for a short while, he soon after let sleep take him too.


	5. Chapter V

**Author's Note: **_Hello again and I apologize for such a delayed chapter update. I have been struggling with writer's block for this story, while also working on other ideas for other stories. Too much going on at once and of course, life gets in the way but I will try to update more frequently. Thank you for all of your lovely reviews and thank you to those who have favorited and are following Wild Roses and Salt Water. _

* * *

Rollo was up at dawn to meet with Ragnar at the ships as final preparations were made before they set sail for Northumbria. Freja remained asleep. He would let her rest longer before their journey. She had looked so peaceful, lying there, nude in his bed amongst the furs. His young goddess.

"Did you have a good night with our young Freja?" Ragnar asked as he carried a large chest onto the ship that they would be later traveling on. He noticed his normally stoic older brother seemed in a cheerier than usual mood.

"I do not know what you mean..." Rollo replied, avoiding eye contact. He usually did not mind discussing his many conquests with his brother and the other men, but Freja was not just any woman to be discussed.

"I am sure the whole village heard her screaming your name—I know I did," Ragnar said with a smirk, "She was certainly not quiet,"

"Does it bother you that it was my name she was screaming and not yours, Brother?" Rollo said back with raised brows. His younger brother had two wives already, he had no business with Freja.

Ragnar ignored Rollo's teasing, "Are you sure you wish for her to come on this raid? You know she may get herself killed..."

"Not while I'm there she won't," Rollo would protect her. She was his and he would not let any Saxon scum get their dirty hands on her, "She is a lot stronger than she looks. She is quite the viscious little thing. Gods help the Saxons should they come into combat with her,"

* * *

The voyage was long and sea had been tumultuous. They had passed through a storm that rocked their ships so violently they feared they would be lost at sea, left to the mercy of Ægir, the God of the sea. It was Freja's first voyage at sea and she had fallen ill for the first two days, but had felt better after resting, and with Lagertha at her side wiping the sweat off her brow. After her shortlived bout of seasickness, she had enjoyed sitting at the back end of the ship and watching the dark waters slam against the sides as the men rowed. She watched the increasing distance as they rowed further and further away from Kattegat.

"I see you are feeling better," said a calm voice from behind her. She turned and saw the Earl standing behind her, looking in the same direction in the distance she was previously. She smiled a small smile and returned her eyes to the water.

"I am, Earl Ragnar," she absentmindedly played with the braid in her hair that had a strip of leather entwined in the plait, "Do you know how many more days before we reach land?"

"It will not be much longer. Perhaps you should go and rest," he replied before he turned to leave her, "You will need your energy and your strength,"

After Ragnar left Freja alone, she got lost in her thoughts. Was she truly ready for such a raid? _Of course you are, _she thought to herself, _do not be such a child. _She thought of Rollo and her growing feelings for him. She thought of Lagertha and how kind she was to her, a true friend. She thought of Björn who was not much younger than her and was already proving himself to be a fearsome warrior like his father and uncle. _His father..._Ragnar. She thought of the Earl with many emotions running through her. He was a complex man. She did not spend too much time aroung him, and yet she could always feel his eyes on her.

"Land!" One of Ragnar's men yelled from the bow as they began to notice a somber and foreboding looking beach becoming visible trough the thick morning fog.

* * *

"Freja! Freja!" Rollo called as he ran around the battlefield, making sure not to step on the many fresh corpses and dead horses. The field was covered in blood, bodies, and weapons. The Saxons had retreated and he could not find Freja. He feared the worst. It seemed just some short moments ago she was within his sight, fighting off two Saxon men. She had fought valiantly over the past four days that they had raided. Her absence concerned him.

"Floki, have you seen Freja?" He asked the taller man who still clutched a small axe in his hand.

"I have not," Floki said, wiping his brow with the back of his free hand, "Perhaps she should have stayed in Kattegat with Princess Aslaug,"

Rollo pushed passed Floki and continued searching for Freja. He scanned the field and the surrounding forest before some movement amongst the bushes caught his attention. He cautiously approached the wooded area, battle axe in hand. He was far from the camp and should he be ambushed, no one would notice. Suddenly, he heard movement behind him and slammed whoever it was up against an ancient oak tree.

"Freja?" He softened his grip when he saw the petite woman that he had in his grasp. She had blood smeared across her chest and her hair was wild and messy.

"I am sorry if I worried you," she explained, "After the Saxons retreated I saw a doe in the woods and I thought I would hunt it so we could feast tonight,"

Rollo was angered by her carelessness. She could have been ambushed and killed or taken hostage. Perhaps Floki was right, she should have stayed in Kattegat. Such foolishness could get her killed.

"Foolish girl," he roared, eyes blazing as he pushed her harder up against the tree, "You will never go anywhere by yourself while we are here! Do you understand?"

Freja matched his fiery gaze and nodded as she unconsciously licked her lips. She did not mean to tempt him, however, Rollo's passion was ignited when he observed. Her chest was heaving up and down from when he had yelled at her. He had her wrists held together above her head in one of his large hands. His knee was between her legs, pinning her against the tree. Without another word, his lips crashed down on hers with bruising force. Rollo had switched from raging anger to lustful desire within mere moments.

"I thought you were angry with me," Freja said as she broke away from his kiss. She breathed heavily as she looked into his stormy gaze.

"I am," he replied gruffly as he began to place hungry kisses on her neck, "I want you to feel how angry I am,"


	6. Chapter VI

_**Author's Note:** Once again, I apologize for such a delayed update and also for such a short chapter. In the next few weeks, I am going to really try to finish a couple more chapters to post. Seeing that the premiere date for season three of Vikings is in February, I am feeling a bit inspired. Thank you for your reviews and follows, it means a lot to me. I hope everyone has a lovely Christmas! _

* * *

Rollo closed the distance between them and ground his hips into hers, allowing her to feel the hardness within his breeches. Freja moaned in response as she moved her hips to a different angle to allow more friction. He removed his nearly bruising grip on her wrists and she lowered her hands down to lace her fingers through his hair as he kissed her mouth feverishly. He pushed her breeches down and undid his own before hoisting her up so that her back was against the tree and her legs wrapped around his waist. With his free hand, he positioned himself at her wet entrance and thrust in deeply with an animalistic grunt. He held her like that for a moment, closing his eyes as he relished in the feeling. _It had been too long. _After the second of sublime bliss upon entering her, he began to pound into her relentlessly. She was now clinging to him, nails digging into his shoulders. Her eyes were shut tight and her teeth clenched.

"Look at me, Freja," he demanded hoarsely as he slowed down his pace slightly.

Freja opened her eyes and looked at him, golden eyes on brown. Both their eyes were dark with desire. He pumped into her with slow, deep strokes as they both got closer to their release. He went faster again as he felt her walls tightening around him. She began to come undone and bit into his shoulder to stifle her scream. With the mix of pleasure and pain, Rollo was sent over the edge. His cock pulsed as he shot his seed deep within her.

Rollo continued to hold her up as he softened inside of her and they both caught their breath, his face nestled in the crook of her neck. Freja let out a small giggle as Rollo lowered her to her feet and they both began to redress.

"What is it?" he asked with an arched brow.

"Perhaps a Saxon happened upon us during our tryst, we would have been easy targets," Freja shook her head at the thought, "Such a vulnerable state we were in,"

"Well then I would have died a happy man," Rollo smirked as he picked up his axe off of the ground, "What more could a man want than to be successful in battle and then die buried between the legs of a beautiful woman?"

* * *

Back at the camp, after darkness had fallen, the wounded had their injuries tended to by healers in a tent while the others celebrated their victory around a fire. Freja was pleased that her, nor Rollo were among the wounded. She suffered a few scratches and bruises, naturally, but her greatest ache came from her back. Rollo had been merciless as he took her against the tree earlier but the pain was well worth it. Freja smirked at the sinful thought as she sipped her mulled wine. She could not wait to return safely to Kattegat to once again share a warm bed with Rollo.

Across the great fire, Rollo sat on a large log flanked by Ragnar and Björn, all drinking horns of ale and discussing the day's battle. Ragnar watched Freja through the fire, how she conversed with Lagertha and another blonde haired shield maiden. She was truly beautiful and he was impressed with her bravery and battle skills. She intrigued him like no other.

"Uncle, shall we spar at dawn?" Björn slapped his uncle's shoulder and Rollo let out a small grunt. The boy was strong. _Björn Ironside_, Ragnar had dubbed him, "Are you wounded?"

Rollo brushed his nephew's large hand away and smirked, "I am alright. I have suffered much worse injuries in battle than a little lover's bite,"

Björn chuckled as he walked away and headed for his tent. Upon hearing his brother speak of being bitten by none other than Freja, Ragnar glanced at him before returning his gaze back to the little shield maiden, who had gotten up from where she sat and was following Lagertha to retire for the night into their tent. She looked over her shoulder and briefly met his gaze before she locked eyes with Rollo and smiled as a silent bid goodnight.

Ragnar was sure that he saw her blush a faint shade of crimson when her eyes met his ever so briefly.


	7. Chapter VII

**_Author's Note: _**_Hello again! As always, I apologize for lack of updates and for such a short chapter, but at least it's something! The next chapter will follow shortly (within the next week) because I already have if half written up. Enjoy! x_

* * *

Ragnar stood at the bow of the ship as they sailed back to Kattegat. It has been a successful raid and he was pleased that he did not lose too many men. He looked down at the dark and stormy water that they sailed upon so diligently. It had been days since they departed Northumbria and he longed to return to his home and his children. _And Aslaug, too_. His second wife. She had been so far from his thoughts since he had left and perhaps growing farther from his heart as well. She was too needy sometimes. What she had in physical beauty, she lacked in independence and strength. Ragnar liked strong women. Lagertha was a prime example of what Ragnar valued in a woman. _Freja too_, he thought. During the raid, he had developed a certain fondness for the young brunette woman. He liked to watch her from afar. Observe her mannerisms, the way she carried herself, _the shape of her..._

"Another successful raid, brother," Rollo's voice called from behind as he grabbed Ragnar's shoulder with a strong hand and gave a chuckle, "There are few things sweeter,"

Ragnar put on a victorious smile as he turned to face his older brother, "The Gods were certainly with us on the battlefield,"

"I am sure all of the maidens in Kattegat and beyond will be vying for Björn's attentions once they hear tales of his bravery," Rollo smirked at the thought of his nephew becoming a man, "He has proven to be quite the warrior,"

"He is my son, I expect nothing less of him, brother," Ragnar smirked, "However, I too cannot wait to see how he will handle such attention,"

* * *

Ragnar walked to the end of the ship and found Lagertha staring out at the open ocean, illuminated by the moonlight. Everyone else was asleep after their third day of sailing. They would reach Kattegat any day now. He snuck up, quiet as a cat, and grabbed her from behind. He held his arms around her waist and nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck. She gave a small sigh of contentment at the gentle contact. She had missed moments of tenderness like this. After all of the bloodshed and fighting, having Ragnar hold her was a welcome change of atmosphere.

"I love you, my wife," he whispered as he placed soft kisses on her exposed neck, his rough beard tickling her sensitive skin.

"As I love you, my husband," she replied as she turned her neck to the side to look up at the bright crescent moon above them. She wished moments like this happened more often. However, Ragnar was the Earl and she was not his only wife any longer. Times had changed. _But the feelings have remained._

"When we return home, I am going to make love to you under a sky like this," he said lowly as he playfully bit her ear, "Until there are no more stars left to see and the sun has risen,"

Lagertha smiled at his sentiment. She had missed this. She moaned in appreciation at the warm feeling of his body against hers, "Is that a promise, my Earl?"

"You know as well as anyone that I am a man of my word," he replied, "Now, let's go and rest before I bend you over and take you right here in front of everyone,"

* * *

Rollo stood at the bow of the ship at dawn, watching through the fog as Kattegat become closer and closer. _Home_. He felt a sudden joy at finally being back. He was a warrior, he lived for battle. But now with Freja, his primal urges as a man took over the desire to fight. He could not wait to take her back to their hut and take her every which way until she screamed his name and begged for mercy. He could not wait to collapse from sheer exhaustion with her. It had been days since their tryst in the woods after battle and he longed to feel her clench around him again.

He glanced over at her sleeping form, wrapped in a cocoon of furs. Her features, so delicate and beautiful. He was glad that she was not injured whatsoever during the raid. Her beauty remained pure and without any maims. He watched as her thick black lashes fluttered and she slowly opened her eyes, golden orbs meeting his dark gaze.

"Hello," she said with a coy smile.

"Hello," he replied as he took a few steps closer to her and offered his hand. She took hold of it and he pulled her to her feet. She looked past him and saw the village, moments away, "Welcome home..."


	8. Chapter VIII

Freja allowed her deep grey woollen gown to pool at her feet before she slowly descended into the steamy hot spring. The weather was somber but not stormy, the air crisp but not icy. The warm water made her skin flush and she sighed in contentment as she floated on her back, eyes closed. The warmth of the hot spring was a welcome feeling that she indulged in as much as possible. She had longed for it during the raid.

It had been a week since their return from England and any ache or pain she sustained in battle was gone. Any scratches or bruises she had no longer blemished her body. Her first raid had been successful and she thanked the Gods that those she cared for were alive and well, and that those few who died had died honourably. Surely they were in the Great Hall of Valhalla feasting with Odin. The thought made Freja smile.

Ragnar quietly approached the wooded area where the hot spring was and observed the sight before him. There was Freja, nude and bathing in the warm waters. Her long brunette hair fanned out around her head like a halo as she floated with her eyes closed. He perched on a large rock as he observed her. She truly was a goddess in name and in beauty. He watched her, like a cat would watch a field mouse through the grass. She had not noticed his presence yet and he wondered how she would react once she did. As he was thinking to himself, he heard movement of water and at that moment, her golden eyes were locked on his form.

"Earl Ragnar!" Freja exclaimed as she crossed her arms over her bare chest. She was standing now, waist deep in the water, "I did not hear you...how long have you been there?"

"Not long," he answered with a smirk, "Did I frighten you?"

"No...I just thought I was alone," she replied as she adjusted her arms.

"Well. Now that you know I am here, do you mind if I join you?" Ragnar asked with a sly grin as he stood from his crouching position on the rock.

Freja thought for a moment and then spoke, "You may join me, Earl Ragnar,"

Ragnar removed his belt before pulling his tunic over his head and tossing the garment to the side. His chest was toned and muscular and marked with scars from past battles. When he began to remove his breeches, he chuckled as he noticed Freja bow her head to look down at the water, clearly averting her eyes from the sight of him nude. He began to descend into the water and he moaned as the warm water lapped at his hips. He looked as Freja through the steamy air and could have sworn her saw crimson flushing her cheeks. _The young shieldmaiden is blushing,_ he thought.

"So, young Freja..." Ragnar drawled as he swam around her.

"Yes, Earl Ragnar?" She questioned as she turned her head around to watch him.

"There is no need for you to address me as your Earl while we are speaking in private," he explained as he splashed water upon his face, "I would like for you to think of us as equals,"

"You truly believe us to be equals, _Ragnar?_" She put emphasis on his name when she spoke to him.

"I believe that Earl is just a title I have earned," he swam closer so that he was right in front of her and his azure gaze burned into her own golden eyes, "I believe that we are both descended from the Gods themselves—I from Óðinn and you from Freyja,"

Freja smiled at Ragnar, her Earl. He was an interesting man. She had never been alone with him before, not like she was now. She wondered if she should excuse herself and return home or if she would stay. Something deep inside of her told her to stay. The same thing that allowed her to get lost in his eyes whenever he looked at her as if she were drowning in the ocean. She was snapped out of her reverie when he suddenly splashed at her with water. He had a mischievous look in his eyes. She giggled as she splashed him back. She felt silly, like a child playing games in the water.

Suddenly, he was under the water and then emerged mere inches from her face. Freja gasped as he put his hands on her hips beneath the water. The air was thick with steam and fog and something else—raw tension. His eyes burned into hers and she felt herself trembling. She had felt his eyes on her on different occasions but did not think anything of it. Now, she knew that he wanted her. He truly wanted everything, even what was not his. She knew she should remove his hands from her body but she could not bring herself to do so.

"Ragnar..." her voice came out as a breathy whisper as she unconsciously bit her plump lower lip.

"Shhh..." he said as he put a finger to her lip. He then grabbed her chin and tilted her head up as he brought his lips down to meet hers. What started out as a gentle kiss, turned into something more urgent and ravenous. His tongue slid into her mouth and she found herself responding to his invasion as she nibbled on his lip and kissed him back with equal fervor. Her hands were on each side of his face and his had moved to cup her backside. Their kiss was full of unbridled passion, for he had thought about kissing her since the first time he saw her.

Freja knew that what she was doing was not right...but she could not stop. Any rational thoughts were betrayed by her body's growing desire for the great Ragnar Lothbrok.


	9. Chapter IX

_**Author's Note: **I honestly cannot decide between Ragnar and Rollo...I think Freja feels that same confliction. Thank you so much for all of your lovely reviews and thank you to all of those who follow and favorite my story. It's a lot of fun to write and I'm hoping that updates will become more frequent! Enjoy! x_

* * *

Freja was lost in Ragnar. She was kissing her lover's brother and she knew she had to stop before it went too far. To be nude and in the same hot spring was one thing but now his hands were roaming her body and she found herself wanting to do the same. Just as he pulled her body flush against his to feel his growing arousal, she broke from the kiss and placed her hands on his chest. He looked at her and cocked his head as he observed her feverish appearance. Her lips were swollen and her eyes were hooded and hazy with lust. _He wanted her._

"I...I should go back now," she said as she backed away, "I should not have let you kiss me,"

"Did you not want to kiss me just as much?" Ragnar asked with a smirk as he made no move to pull her back to him.

"No.._yes,_" she stammered, "I am with Rollo,"

"Do you love my brother?" he asked.

"Yes..." Freja pondered that question herself. She certainly cared strongly for Rollo and they had made love many times. Could she love him and still harbour these feelings for his younger brother? If he found out she had spent her afternoon in the hot spring with him, how would he react? She could sense tension between the two brothers often and did not want to be the reason for them to begin a sibling's war.

Ragnar began to swim away, "Then go back to Kattegat and await his return,"

* * *

Freja sat in her home and boiled water over the fire to prepare herbal tea. Night had fallen and the moon shone brightly in the dark sky. Rollo would be back the next morning from his hunting trip with Björn and she eagerly awaited his return. What had happened between her and Ragnar had her longing for Rollo's body like never before. She needed to feel his hands and his mouth on her body to help wash away whatever feelings she had towards his brother.

She wondered, if Ragnar had wanted her so, why didn't he just take her as his wife when she first came to Kattegat seeking shelter? He was the one who had introduced her to Rollo and tasked him with training her for their raids. Ragnar was a peculiar man. He both intrigued her and frightened her. She was not frightened of him per se, but she was frightened of the feelings that he had awoken within her.

As she sipped her tea, she contemplated visiting the seer to seek answers regarding her fate. She was not carrying Rollo's child and they had not yet married, yet they shared a bed like a husband and wife would. She wondered what the future held for her.

* * *

Freja stood out in the courtyard as she watched Rollo, Björn, and the rest of their small hunting party arrive on horseback. The sun was shining bright and that made her feel happy. The sun was shining and her lover had returned._ Sól is smiling on us, _she thought_. _She watched as Rollo got down from his horse and made his way over to her through the crowd. When he was close enough, she ran and jumped into his arms. He lifted her effortlessly and kissed her passionately.

"I missed you, my love," Freja said in between kisses as he gently placed her back down.

"As I missed you," he replied, "How did you fare while I was gone?"

"You were gone three days and even so I longed for you," she looked up into his eyes, "My nights were cold without you there to keep my body warm,"

"I cannot wait to take you to bed after we feast tonight," Rollo said as he squeezed her backside and she giggled in response.


	10. Chapter X

The feast to celebrate the successful raid to the West was a loud and cheerful affair. It was held in Ragnar's longhouse, the Earl's Great Hall. The central hearth was lit as it always was and men of Ragnar's _hird_ along with their wives and children sat at the long table as slaves served their food and refilled their ale or mead. Ragnar sat at the very head of the table with Aslaug to his left and Lagertha to his right. Maids took care of their young children, for the boys were still too young for such a vibrant celebration. Björn sat beside his mother and Athelstan with Þórunn alongside him — he had grown rather fond of the slave turned aspiring shield maiden. Floki and Helga sat beside Aslaug, across from Björn. Beside Floki sat Freja and then Rollo, directly across from Ragnar at the opposite head of the table.

Freja allowed her silver chalice to be refilled with wine as she admired the rubies that were embedded into the delicate filigree designs. They had brought back many similar items from their raid — chalices, jewellery, strange and luxurious garments. She inhaled the strong, fruity scent before taking a long sip. After she set it down, she felt a hand on her thigh and looked down to see Rollo caressing her through her dress. She placed her hand atop of his and he squeezed.

Amongst the laughter and merriment, Ragnar sat quietly at his spot at the head of the table and watched Freja through hooded eyes. Rollo was leaned in close, whispering something in her ear and she giggled in return. Ragnar couldn't help but notice how she bit into her lower lip as she stifled another laugh. At that moment, Ragnar envied his elder brother. There was no question that he wanted what his brother had.

Ragnar was snapped out of his reverie by the sound of a baby crying. He glanced over at Aslaug.

"Ivar," she said with a sigh as she stood to go and tend to their youngest son.

* * *

"Are you ready to go back to our home yet?" Rollo asked before drinking his horn of ale in one hefty gulp.

Freja giggled, giddy from the wine, "But Rollo, that would make us the first to leave! I haven't had my fill of excitement yet, I couldn't possibly be able to sleep,"

"The excitement can continue at home for I did not say anything about going to sleep," he replied as he pulled her closer to him.

"Still, let us stay for awhile longer," she said as she leaned in and kissed his neck, "And then I will let you pleasure me until morning,"

Rollo smirked at what his little shield maiden had said to him. He liked how the wine made her so bold. He wanted nothing more than to throw her over his shoulder and carry her back to their home so that he could have his way with her. He planned to have her screaming his name all night as he pleasured her. No one would hear for all of Kattegat would be either still partying or passed out drunk in the Great Hall. Until then, he would let her enjoy the celebration.

Rollo and Freja knew it was time to go when Floki had passed out underneath the long table with his horn of ale, that never seemed to be empty except for then. Many still drank and danced but Ragnar lounged on a pile of furs by the hearth with his arms behind his head. Watching, observing as he always seemed to be doing. _Such a calculating man,_ Freja thought. Rollo's hand was on the small of her back as he ushered her out through the diminishing crowd. As she glanced back, she caught Ragnar's devilish smirk and his endless ocean gaze locked on hers.

* * *

Once back in their home, Rollo tended to their hearth while Freja undid the braids that were woven into her silky chestnut hair. She thought about Ragnar's eyes on her once again and the way he looked at her slightly unnerved her. She couldn't even begin to describe what she was feeling. Something about him drew her in, yet scared her at the same time. He was her Earl and her lover's brother. She loved Rollo and she was sure that it wouldn't be long before she was carrying his child.

She was broken away from her thoughts by the feel of strong, rough hands undressing her from behind. She took in a sharp breath as her dress pooled at her feet and the cool air surrounded her naked body. Rollo brought one of his hands to her hip and pulled him to her as the other found her breast. UHe began placing kissed upon her exposed neck as she leaned her head back into his bare chest. She could feel his arousal pressed against her backside through his breeches.

"All night I have thought about taking you," he said huskily as he ground himself into her.

"Then take me to bed," she breathed as she reached back to tangle her hand in his hair. He continued placing kisses on her neck.

"Not yet," he said between kisses.

Without warning, he had her in his arms and he placed her down on their table. She lay there on her back looking up at him, slightly confused. Her confusion dissipated when he was hovering over her body, his mouth on hers, kissing her hungrily. Her body was aching to feel him inside of he as he continued his relentless assault on her mouth.

He broke away and began placing kisses down between the valley of her breasts, down her flat stomach and then finally his face was mere inches from her centre. He glanced up at her through hooded eyes as she looked at him expectantly. The only light came from the burning fire which cast shadows around the room. Freja felt him glide his hands up her thighs and gently spread her legs apart. He put one finger at her opening and allowed it to become coated in her arousal. He sucked her sweet nectar off his finger, maintaining eye contact the entire time. He then began to pleasure her expertly with his mouth. He was ravenous for her body. Freja was absolutely feverish. Her body began to tremble and she felt her legs try to clench together, but Rollo was strong and kept them apart while he continued bringing her closer to the edge.

"Rollo...I need you," she said in between pants as she revelled in new sensation that he had just blessed her with, "_Now_,"

He obliged to her plea as he effortlessly picked her up and carried her to their fur laden bed. He set her down gently as he stood to remove his breeches, allowing his impressive manhood to spring free. Freja licked her lips in anticipation and the thought of finally having him fill her.

"I don't think I can go slowly right now," he said as he began to stroke himself, trying to relieve some of the built up tension.

"I did not say anything about going slowly," Freja replied as she welcomed the feel of his body on top of her.

He smirked at her words before poising himself at her entrance. He coated his head with her essence before sliding into her with one swift and deep thrust. She clenched around him as he mercilessly pounded into her. She was moaning loudly and screaming his name. His breathing was heavy and growing ragged. She scratched down his back — sure to leave marks — as she met her release. He followed not long after as he spilled his plentiful seed into her, her body milking him of his essence. They both lay there, sweaty and tangled up in each other before drifting off to sleep.


	11. Chapter XI

_**Author's Note: **Hello! So I think I am improving here...I'm updating more frequently and I finally have figured out a plan for the next few chapters! One of my weaknesses was planning and having a stable plot. Up until this point, I would just write whatever, whenever the mood struck. But now I have a plot figured out besides the obvious love triangle we've got going on here. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter and please review! x_

* * *

Months had gone by and the people of Kattegat now hailed Ragnar Lothbrok as their King after he defeated King Horik. The village went without any further conflict and the people lived peacefully. The time for the summer raids was approaching and plans and preparations were being made. Floki was working on a new longship with the help of some of the men, along with Björn, Rollo, and Ragnar. Floki usually preferred to work alone, but the ship he had designed would be the biggest to date and any help was welcome.

Meanwhile, Freja and Rollo grew closer. Her feelings for him deepened and she found herself feeling like she had finally found where she belonged. But still, in the back of her mind lurked _something..._some attraction towards Ragnar. Every time they all would eat at the table in the Great Hall, she would feel his eyes on her, watching her every move. She never told Rollo. The connection she shared with his brother was her secret. Sometimes she thought about sleeping with him..._maybe then the fire in her loins would cease when he looked at her._ Whenever those feelings seemed to reach the surface, she would drown them with her love for Rollo.

* * *

Freja moaned in contentment as she rolled over on the bed and came into contact with Rollo's warm body. She loved waking up next to her warrior. Her bear. A bright ray of sunlight shone in through the small window and she wondered how long they had slept. She glanced at Rollo, sleeping peacefully, before she made a move to get up off the bed.

"Where do you think you are going?" Rollo's gruff sleep laden voice said from behind her. She felt strong arms wrap around her bare waist as he pulled her closer to him.

"Good morning to you too," Freja replied as he buried his face in her neck, "We must have slept through the entire morning!"

"There is nothing wrong with that," he kissed her collarbone, "We had another long night…"

Freja blushed as she felt his arousal pressed against her backside with only a fur throw between their bodies. _He is insatiable, _she thought as he continued placing light kisses on her neck. His feathery kisses in contrast with the roughness of his beard on her skin drove her wild. Before she knew it, he had her pinned beneath him and he was staring into her eyes with a lusty gaze. She cocked her head at him and smiled sweetly. She loved the way he looked at her with such adoration.

"What is it?" he asked, curious as to why she was smiling as if something were funny.

"Nothing," she pulled him down on her and kissed him deeply before answering him with her own question, "Do you love me, Rollo?"

He paused for a minute as he studied her face. She was a beautiful sight before him with her tousled hair, swollen lips, and flushed cheeks. When she looked at him, her eyes burned like melted gold. He had never felt about any woman the way he felt about her. He thanked the Gods every day for sending her to him. She was his goddess and in her he had found his match.

"Yes," he finally replied, "Love was never something I thought I would have. I am not my brother. I have never taken a wife. Women I have had my fair share of, but none meant anything to me. I do not know what I have done to deserve you, Freja, but you are a gift from the Gods,"

Freja was touched by Rollo's sentiment. She had never seen this side of him before. He, the fierce warrior, was opening his heart to her. She bit her lower lip and smiled before pushing him off of her and then straddling him on the bed. Her hair hung down like curtains as she kissed her lover passionately.

* * *

Ragnar sat on his throne in the Great Hall with Aslaug seated next to him as he watched Floki bring in a sickly old man who had arrived in Kattegat not long ago — a simple wanderer. The old man was dirty and dressed in raggedy clothing with a long grey beard that was matted just like the plain furs he wore over his sagging shoulders.

"Have a seat, my friend," Ragnar said as he eyed the man closely.

Floki pushed the man down into a seat in front of Ragnar. Floki's not-so-gentle contact caused the old man to start coughing. He was clearly not in good health and had been wandering for some time.

Ragnar glanced at Aslaug who had a look of blatant disgust on her face. She was clearly not enthused to be at his side, but as his Queen, it was her duty. He turned his attention to the man once more and turned his head to the side curiously.

"I found him in the fish shed feasting on salted herring," Floki said with a mischievious giggle, "And when I approached him he tried to run...but I stopped him,"

Ragnar nodded slowly, never taking his eyes off the old man. The old man looked up at Ragnar from under his hood and his eyes were clouded over with cataracts. He appeared to be blind, but his gaze seemingly met Ragnar's.

"What is your name?" Ragnar asked clearly and slowly. The old man was probably hard of hearing as well as nearly blind.

"Stígandr, my King," he spoke with a raspy and weak voice, "My name is Stígandr,"

"What brings you to Kattegat, Stígandr?" Ragnar asked as Floki paced with long strides around the old man, "...besides to eat our salted fish,"

The man began to cough again and before Floki could grab him, he was keeled over on the ground. He began coughing up blood as Aslaug turned her head away in disgust. Ragnar stood and began to slowly approach the man as Floki stood back, hands on his hips. The man was certainly ill and Ragnar hoped he did not carry a plague with him into Kattegat. He turned back and nodded at Aslaug, dismissing her to go back to their children.

"Where is it you have come from?" Ragnar asked as he crouched down next to the sick man.

The man wheezed and looked up, meeting the King's inquisitive blue eyes, "...Øresund...my King..."

Before he could be questioned any further, the old man collapsed into unconsciousness at Ragnar's feet.


	12. Chapter XII

_**Author's Note: **__Hello again! Another one of my flaws...my lack of patience. I just wrote this chapter and I just could not wait to share it with you. Review, review, review! x_

* * *

Ragnar had Stígandr the wanderer placed in a quarantined area where the healers, a couple of _völur_ women, were tending to him. After losing so many of his people, and his beloved young daughter Gyda to a deadly plague all of those years ago, he had to be careful. He could not have history repeating itself and the Gods taking away any more of his dear children. Aslaug was in a panic. She told Ragnar to send the old man away, but he would not listen. Stígandr told him that he had come from Øresund, the same village that Freja came from seeking refuge. He had to know more. He had not told Freja about the man's origins. He had only told Rollo to keep Freja away, for the man's illness was still unknown.

Ragnar made his way to where Stígandr was being kept and entered the small area where the man was laying on his back. Asleep and breathing steadily. Ragnar turned to the older _völva, _a woman with long and curly grey hair that had a few plaits adorned with beads woven throughout.

"What is ailing him?" he asked the woman as he gestured toward the man with his chin.

"Old age, my King," she replied sombrely, "He also has a broken rib that has punctured one of his lungs. He was out wandering in the cold for months, eating whatever he could find. All there is left to do is make him comfortable until he is in the hands of the Gods,"

Ragnar nodded as he glanced downward, "So that is it? He is going to die?"

"Not yet," she placed her hand on the man's forehead, feeling his temperature, "Perhaps within a day or two. But he will not live,"

* * *

Freja was sitting alone in her and Rollo's home sewing a garment as Rollo was off helping Floki with the ship or visiting the Seer with Björn — she could not remember which he said he was going to do first. She had heard that an old wanderer had arrived to Kattegat the previous day and she was curious. Rollo had told her to stay away from where he was being kept, for fear of the man carrying a plague. Freja felt useless, sitting on her stool sewing. She huffed in annoyance and set down her tools on a nearby table. She stood and smoothed out her deep red dress before making her way to the stove to boil some water. Sewing, washing clothing, cooking. She could not wait for the next raid.

After she finished with the mending and washing, Freja decided to go visit Lagertha, who was fishing with Helga. She approached the women, both holding spears above the water, ready to stab their prey. Freja grabbed a spare spear that was resting against a tree.

"Freja!" Helga exclaimed as she turned around, "I did not hear you coming...we have had no luck so far,"

"Ah! Got one!" Lagertha exclaimed loudly as she pulled the dead fish off the end of her spear and set it in a basket.

"Have you heard anything of the wanderer?" Freja asked her friends as she stabbed her spear into the water. _Nothing. _

"Floki was the one who found him," Helga replied, "He was in the fish shed scavenging for something to eat. He took him to Ragnar right away to be questioned,"

"And what did he find out?" Freja asked, turning to Lagertha with a raised eyebrow.

"He is a very old man, who is very sick," Lagertha replied softly, looking at Freja and then at Helga, "Ragnar is being careful by keeping him isolated. I am praying to the Goddess that another plague is not upon us..."

Helga grabbed Lagertha's free hand and looked at her sympathetically, remembering her sweet daughter, Gyda, who was lost to the plague years ago while the men were away on a raid. The Gods were with them then, as they were never affected, even while tending to the sick.

Freja nodded slowly. She could only imagine how beautiful Lagertha's daughter would be if she were with them today. Lagertha was a strong and beautiful woman and she admired her greatly for both attributes. She was thankful to have such lovely friends in Kattegat. She looked up at the sky and the sun was shining on them.

* * *

Meanwhile, Rollo and Björn made their way to visit the Seer. The Seer would tell them what the Gods had in store for them. Björn was curious if and when Þórunn would hear him any children. He was old enough to be a father and she was old enough to be a mother. He loved his younger half brothers and wanted to be a father himself, but he was not sure if Þórunn was ready yet. She was so set on being a shield maiden and going on raids that being with child would foil her ambitions.

Rollo, on the other hand, just went along with his nephew for something to do. In truth, he did not go to the Seer as often as his brother did. He preferred to choose his own fate, rather than leave it up to the Gods. However, he was curious as to what he would learn. He was sure that the Gods sent Freja to him, but what would the Seer tell him? Will she soon carry his child? Rollo was older than Ragnar and yet Ragnar had fathered six children before him.

As he walked alongside his blonde haired nephew, now a man, Rollo thought of what his and Freja's children would look like. Both he and her had dark hair. His eyes brown and hers golden. Surely they would produce handsome and strong sons.

"You go in first, Uncle," Björn said as he gestured for Rollo to go in before him, "I can wait to hear what the Gods have in store for me,"

Rollo shrugged as he entered the Seer's small and dark hut. The smell of incense and smoke filled his nostrils as he sat down across from the Ancient One. The Seer wore an old and raggedy mossy looking cloak. Around his neck hung beads and bones of animals. The blind man lifted his head, sensing Rollo's presence.

"Ahhh, hello Rollo," he said in his rough voice, "I have been expecting you...the Gods have spoken to me about your future..."

"And what did the Gods tell you, Ancient One?" Rollo asked with a bored expression on his face.

"The Gods have told me that the bear will marry a princess," the Seer said before laughing, "And you, Rollo, will be in attendance,"

"What does that mean?" He asked, frustrated, as he leaning in closer to the Seer.

"Oh Rollo, if you only knew what the Gods had in store for you, you'd go dance naked on the beach," the old man said cryptically as he gave another small chuckle.

Rollo paid his respects and thanked the Seer before storming out, bumping his shoulder against Björn's as he stomped by him. Björn shot him a quizzical look before going in to learn of his own fate.

Rollo sat down on a fallen tree while he waited for his nephew. He was left alone with his thoughts and the cryptic words that now resonated in his mind. _The bear will marry a princess. _Rollo was utterly confused and irritated. What was that supposed to mean for him? The old mystic must surely be mad to tell him such nonsense.


	13. Chapter XIII

Freja snuck away during dinner to check on the wanderer, Stígandr. It was the second day since he has arrived and the first time he had been conscious since collapsing. Since he was free of plague, only ill with broken bones and old age, Freja felt the need to help care for the man. She entered the candlelit building and approached him where he lay on the bed, seemingly asleep. She knelt down beside him and put her hand on his head. His eyes suddenly opened and a look of shock came over his face. Freja was taken aback, afraid that she had startled the man terribly.

"Do not be frightened," she said softly taking the man's hand, "I am just here to make sure you are comfortable,"

He squinted his milky eyes and gazed closely at her, studying her features before he gasped, "Princess..._Freja_,"

Freja was stunned, "N-no...I...I am just a young woman from the village,"

"I cannot believe it," he said weakly, "You are alive...everyone...you were all killed,"

"I'm sorry sir, I must go," she said as she hurried out and made her way quickly outside.

She picked up the hem of her dress and ran towards the shore where she stood under the night sky, gasping for air. She felt like her head was spinning and she feared she would faint. The old man Stígandr had called her _Princess Freja._ She was in absolute disbelief. The man had escaped from Øresund before it and everyone there was destroyed. She thought she was the sole survivor. She did not know what to do. She had not told anyone in Kattegat of her life in Øresund or of her family history.

Suddenly, Freja heard footsteps approaching behind her so she turned around, "King Ragnar, what are you doing?"

"You left the feast...so I followed you," Ragnar said smirking. He was thankful that his brother was enjoying the abundance of ale in the Great Hall. He was free to follow Freja without suspicions from anyone.

"Yes, I just needed some air," she said, feeling flushed.

"How is our friend Stígandr doing?" he asked her, already knowing. He had followed her as soon as she left the Great Hall and he had been watching her interaction with the old man. His interest was piqued after hearing the man refer to her as a princess. Not sending the wanderer away had paid off. He was now more interested in Freja than ever before.

"He is...delirious," she replied smoothly, collecting herself mentally. She had to be careful with Ragnar. He was a clever man and he seemed to be able to read her like a book, "I fear the fever may take him soon,"

"It appeared as if he recognized you," Ragnar replied as he turned his head to the side, eyeing her curiously, "You both came from Øresund, did you not?"

"I did..." she replied, "That is where he told you he came from?"

Ragnar nodded, not breaking eye contact as his eyes glistened with mischievousness in the moonlight. He moved closer and began to circle around her. He could sense her nervousness and slight panic as he watched her chest rise and fall. She remained indignant with her chin raised. Definitely a regal stature if he ever saw one.

"So..._princess...a_re you going to tell me more about yourself or do I need to go and question our old friend in there?" Ragnar challenged, "Although, I would rather hear it from you. Old Stígandr can barely speak without bursting into a coughing fit,"

"I will tell you," she gave in, "But not here and not now,"

"When and where?" Ragnar asked stopping in front of her. He was less than an arm's length away and her heart pounded in her chest, "And does Rollo know?"

"No one knows," she stated, "Please, do not say anything,"

"As your King," he tested, watching her expression, "I want you to tell me everything. Now. Let's go," he grabbed her hand and began leading her away from the village. He brought her into the woods and to the bank of a stream where they both sat down on a fallen tree.

Freja sighed, "What do you want to know?"

"Tell me who you really are," Ragnar replied, "Tell me about your family. Who was your father?"

"What the wanderer said is the truth...I was a princess," she began, "My father was King Herrauðr and my mother was Queen Hleið of Östergötland. My mother died giving birth to my brother when I was a girl. When I was but twelve years old, my father was killed in battle. I was still too young to rule so a noble family took me in as their own to raise until I would come of age. Stígandr...I remember him now...he was a widower with no children who lived in Øresund while I was staying with the family that took care of me..."

Ragnar peered closer as she recounted her childhood to him. Freja was by birth a princess. He was shocked and intrigued. He couldn't help but smile, "So tell me the rest of your story,"

"There was a man who had asked for my hand in marriage before my father died. My father had rejected him many, many times. He always told me that I was more precious to him than any land or jewels could ever be. The man was almost my father's age and had been married three times — each of his young brides mysteriously dying," she cast her gaze downward as she told her story, "My father only wanted happiness for me. So...while I was living in Øresund, before I came to Kattegat...he came for me with his men. They killed everyone and burnt the village. He wanted to take me. I thank the Gods everyday that I escaped such a horrible fate,"

"And this man — does he now call himself Earl or King of Östergötland?" Ragnar asked, "What is his name?"

"His name was Ingvar," she replied, "And yes, I believe he has usurped me and taken my rightful lands. I do not fret, however, because there is nothing left for me there,"

"So you are princess by birth and you have no desire to take back what belongs to you?" Ragnar asked as he studied her.

"No," she replied with a small smile, "I am happy living as I am,"

Ragnar did not understand. To him, land and title were important. He himself had taken Kattegat from Earl Haraldson, and then went on to take Denmark from King Horik, becoming the new king after his death. He wondered if he could persuade Freja to allow him to help her take back Östergötland — but he did not want her to leave. He still felt an attraction and a protectiveness over her that he still could not come to terms with. She was with his older brother and yet he still coveted her. He regretted not taking her as a wife when she first came to Kattegat. He pondered for a moment as they sat in silence. If Freja married Rollo and then decided to take back her land, that would make them king and queen. His brother would be ruler of his own land, but where would that leave them?

"Ragnar?" Freja said, bringing him away from his thoughts, "Please, never speak of what I have just told you. I do not wish for anyone to know, not yet,"

She looked ethereal in the moonlight, handcrafted by the Gods themselves. Her eyes watched him like that of a hawk — similar in golden colouring yet softer and gentler. Lips as red and soft as rose petals begged to be kissed. He longed to taste her again but he knew that now was not the time and so he restrained himself.

"Your secret is safe with me, Freja," he said. He loved the way her name felt on his lips. The next best thing to tasting her, he thought.

"Thank you," she whispered as she looked at the man before her. She felt a familiar magnetic pull that she tried to ignore. She was being reeled in by his hypnotic cerulean gaze and she did not feel like fighting it this time. She leaned closer and closed the distance between them, pressing her lips against his softly. It was a chaste kiss, a kiss of gratitude, a kiss between friends. That is what she tried to tell herself, but deep down she knew that the kiss meant more than that.


	14. Chapter XIV

_**Author's Note: **Hello! I feel like I should issue an apology in advance for this chapter...I have been suffering from awful writer's block again so this 'filler' is a result of that. I can't wait to write about the upcoming raid and the events that will take place. Some will be happy, others will be upset...but it will all work out in the end. Oh, and what did everybody think of the Vikings season finale?! Please leave reviews and let me_ know! x

* * *

Freja passed by Ragnar in the courtyard and shared a knowing glance. She nodded and he flashed his signature smirk. It had been a week since her admission to him of her past and of her birthright. He had not spoken of it, as he promised her. She was grateful that he honoured her wish. The morning after, the wanderer Stígandr was discovered dead. He had died in his sleep and Freja felt sad and happy at the same time. He was at peace now free from suffering. She breathed a sigh of relief knowing that her identity was no longer at risk of being revealed.

Freja made her way to where the men were working on the longship. It was nearing completion and the time to raid was almost upon them. She watched from a distance as Rollo carried planks of lumber towards the ship and passed them to Floki, who unlike Rollo, struggled with the heavy weight. Rollo was stronger than most men and could lift almost anything with inhuman strength. That is what made him such a good warrior — he was utterly powerful. His body was a sight to behold. He was bare chested and glistened with sweat. Freja loved to watch him work. She loved to watch him do anything, really.

"Well, look who it is!" Floki announced her presence as he jumped down from the front of the ship, "Have you come to help us, sweet Freja?"

Freja laughed and shook her head, "I do not think I would be much help around here, Floki. Rollo seems to be helping you just fine,"

She felt strong arms around her waist as Rollo hugged her from behind. She leaned into his embrace and inhaled his masculine scent. He wasn't usually one to be affectionate in front of everyone but Freja welcomed it with a smile whenever he did. Viking men were hard, they were warriors. Affection was usually limited to the bed — or wherever else a man and a women chose to be together.

"The ship is almost ready," Rollo said into her hair, still embracing her from behind.

"I see that," Freja replied, "I cannot wait to go,"

Rollo sighed, "You are not going to stay in Kattegat this time?"

Freja turned to face him, insulted that he expected her to stay behind, "Why would I stay in Kattegat?"

"I just thought it might be for the best," Rollo explained, "How do we know that you are not with child right now?"

"I am not with child," she replied, crossing her arms.

"How do you know?" he asked.

"I am a woman, Rollo," she said, the annoyance becoming evident in her tone of voice, "I know how my body works and I know that I am not with child. There is no reason for me not to join you on this raid,"

"If you insist," he said, giving in. Clearly he would not succeed in dissuading her from going. Truthfully, Rollo knew that chances she was with child were slim. He had only spilled his seed in her a few times. The real reason for wanting her to remain in Kattegat was that he was afraid of losing her. If she were to be killed, he would never forgive himself. He trained her in weaponry and combat so he felt responsible for her survival on the battlefield.

Rollo watched Freja walk away from him while he resumed working on the ship. She cast a glance over her shoulder at him before she disappeared from his sight.

* * *

The sun shone brightly that afternoon as Björn sparred with Þórunn. Everyone had to prepare for the raid both physically and mentally. They fought without sparring weapons as they were fighting just for fun. Þórunn kicked at Björn but he grabbed her by the ankle which caused her to fall flat on her back. She propped herself up on her elbows as she glared up at him, standing over her triumphantly with a smile on his face.

"If this were a real battle you would be dead," Björn said matte-of-factly as he sat down next to her, mimicking her position.

"But this is not a real battle," she replied.

"You are right," he said, "It is not,"

"So, what do you think of Freja," she asked.

"I think she is good for my uncle," Björn explained, "Do you spend any time with her?"

"Not really," she replied.

"You two should practice together," he replied, "My uncle trained her and she is turning into a good warrior,"

Þórunn pondered Björn's suggestion. She had started training not long after Freja had and she couldn't help but feel a pang of jealously at the other woman's growing skill. She felt like everyone was constantly singing her praises. Þórunn may have been a slave before she met Björn, but as far as she was concerned, Freja had been nothing but a wanderer when she first came to Kattegat. There was something strange about her. The only consolation that Þórunn had was that maybe one day, she would rule alongside Björn...

Þórunn shook her head at the silly thought that had crossed her mind and flashed Björn a nervous smile as she rose to her feet.

* * *

Freja walked hastily towards the armoury. She was angry and insulted that Rollo would even suggest that she remain in Kattegat whilst he and everyone else go raiding. As she turned the corner, her body collided with another, and she was met with the familiar blue gaze of Ragnar.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" he asked as he placed his hands on her shoulders.

Freja squirmed away, not in the mood to be touched in such a condescending fashion, "I am going to practice my archery — alone,"

Ragnar smirked at her obvious annoyance. Somebody had certainly irked her and he would bet his life that it was Rollo, "Did you and my brother have an argument?"

"No," she replied as she walked past him, only to have him follow her.

"Then what is it?" he asked.

"Rollo seems to think that I should stay in Kattegat," she explained as she entered the armoury, "He does not want me to go raiding,"

Ragnar shrugged, "Lagertha is not coming on this raid. She is going to stay in Kattegat and help rule in my stead,"

"Well that is her choice," she replied as she grabbed a bow and arrows and exited the armoury, "I wish to go and so I shall,"

Freja kept her pace fast as she walked into the woods with Ragnar trailing behind her. She knew he was following her and she did not bother to tell him to leave her be. He would do as he pleased regardless. She reached a clearing and scoped out the area for a target, a tree or something that she could shoot at. It had been awhile since she practiced archery. _Too long,_ she thought.

Ragnar stood behind her as he watched her load her bow and aim an arrow at a large tree across the stream. He watched her body slightly tense before she released and sent the arrow straight past the tree, clearly missing her target. Her shoulders dropped before she moved on to load another arrow. He loved to observe her. Her movements, her mannerisms. Everyday he grew more and more curious of the mysterious princess.


	15. Chapter XV

**_Author's Note: _**_Hello! Long time, no see! I re-read this story last night and I felt absolutely awful upon realizing that I haven't updated in SO LONG but it is what it is. Life keeps me busy and I don't have as much free time to write as I used to (I also feel as if my writing is no longer as good, I've been so long out of practice). With Vikings back on, I've been slowly getting back into it. I've also been re-watching the series from the beginning, so that helps. Anyway, I'm not really following the storyline, I'm kind of doing my own thing...I find it too hard to keep up! Pray to the Gods that my updates after this one become more frequent! x_

**_PS: _**_If any of my readers would like to follow my social media accounts, here they are..._

_Twitter: nikolefreja_

_Tumblr: nikolefreja_

_Instagram: nikolefreja (personal) + frejawrites (writing)_

* * *

The days in Kattegat went on in preparation for the raid and everything was nearly ready. The ships, the supplies, all of the warriors and shield-maidens were ready. One warrior, Rollo, still struggled with the reality of his lover joining him on this one. She had gone raiding with him before, but this time was different―this time he cared for her. _He loved her_. He wouldn't have her die on Saxon soil. Surely she would enter Valhalla, but he wanted her to live first. To have children. His children.

Rollo's brother on the other hand, Ragnar, the Earl, could not be more excited to return to England once more. A curious man, he had grown tired of being idle and longed to see what other lands and treasures awaited him across the sea. He dreamed of bountiful lands, perfect for farming...of treasures and gold more valuable than anything he had raided from the monastery. The day of their leave could not come sooner. _He was ready_.

Freja was having mixed feelings. She had wanted to raid so badly and she had trained so long and hard. Rollo had nearly begged her to change her mind but she had remained adamant that she would join them. Now, however, she had thought more. Their relationship became stained, they could not agree on anything these days. They loved each other, but he had grown too protective, wanting to keep her hidden away in Kattegat away from all harm. Was she truly free from harm in Kattegat? Many nights she recalled her conversation with Ragnar about her true identity. What if somebody came and recognized her? One of Ingvar's men, or worse, Ingvar himself.

* * *

Rollo entered the Great Hall and was met by his brother, Ragnar. He had come to speak with him about the raid. They were days away from leaving and still he could not dissuade Freja from going but he hoped his brother could.

"Hello brother," Ragnar said, "What is it you wished to speak to me about?"

"Everything for the raid is ready?" Rollo asked as he sat down across from his brother.

Ragnar nodded, "The only thing that remains is the sacrifice for safe passage,"

"And when will this take place?" Rollo asked.

"At dawn," Ragnar replied, "And then we shall depart soon after,"

"We are leaving sooner than we planned..." Rollo said. He had to ask his brother now. He needed him to speak to Freja and convince her to stay. Perhaps she would listen to her Earl.

"Yes, I am anxious to set sail," he replied as he reclined back in his chair and clasped his hands together, "Many spoils await us,"

"I have one favour to ask of you..." Rollo started.

"What is it?" Ragnar asked with a raised brow.

"I do not wish for Freja to go on this raid. She insists on going and we have fought many times. She will not listen to me but perhaps you can speak with her, command her to stay if you have to," Rollo explained, "But she must stay in Kattegat,"

Ragnar pondered for a moment before speaking, "Why is if that you do not want her to go raiding? Is she carrying your child?"

"No. She assured me she is not. I just feel as if something bad could befall her," he replied.

"On her first raid, Rollo, she was unharmed, practically untouched in battle, just like Björn who we now call 'Björn Ironside'...she has proven to be strong and quick and a good warrior," Ragnar explained, "You trained her yourself, why is it that now you have such little faith in her?"

"She is too young, too beautiful..." Rollo said, as he looked Ragnar directly in the eye, "I want a family, brother,"

Ragnar smiled, "Everybody wants a family but she is not a bird to be kept in a cage to await your return...I will speak with her but it shall be her decision,"

* * *

Ragnar wandered into the forest to find Freja. She had gone to practice her archery, it remained her favourite form of weaponry. She could be found in the woods most afternoon, she coveted her solitude. He walked until he came across her sitting on a rock by a stream, her bow at her feet. She was sharpening her dagger and did not notice him approaching from behind. He crept up quietly and placed his hands upon her shoulders and shook her. She shrieked and jumped to her feet.

"Ragnar! What are you doing!" she said with wide eyes as she held out her newly sharpened dagger, "I could have killed you!"

Ragnar smirked and let out a small chuckle, "No, you couldn't,"

"Well, what is it that you want?" she asked as she sat back down, sheathing her blade.

"Would you like me to be honest?" he asked as he sat on the ground and faced her.

The flirtation in his deep turquoise eyes and in his voice caused her to blush. Since their kiss, they hadn't spent time alone together and had barely talked. Weeks had passed and they had both been busy in preparation for the raid. She still felt his eyes on her from time to time, burning through her as she made her way through the village, or across the long table when they feasted. Still, that is all it was. A heady gaze from time to time._ Ragnar loves to make love with his eyes, _she thought.

"Yes, please do," Freja finally said as she leaned forward to match his gaze.

"I will tell you why I came to find you," he replied, "Rollo does not wish for you to go to England with us,"

Freja sighed, "So, you are here on behalf of your brother to _command_ me not to go?"

"No. I simply came to tell you that Rollo does not want you to accompany us," Ragnar explained, "I will not _command _you to stay or to go. If you wish to go raiding, that is your choice, not mine nor my brother's,"

Freja smiled, "This makes me happy. You could easily use your position to command me to stay and yet you choose not to,"

"Am I truly in any position to command you to do anything, _princess?" _hewinked playfully at herand then pulled her to the ground with him, causing her to fall into his lap. Her cheeks once again became flushed at their sudden closeness. Ragnar held onto her, her back to him and his chin rested atop her head. He inhaled the scent of her hair. _She always smells sweet like honey_, he thought as he pulled her closer and felt her simultaneously lean into his embrace.

"You have not told anyone, have you?" she asked, and then felt him nod his head upon hers.

"I told you," he spoke, "I would keep your secret...until you are ready to reveal yourself,"

"I am not a princess anymore, Ragnar," she said solemnly. It was true. In her heart, she did not feel like the girl she once was. She was a woman now, a happy woman who had no obligations, only freedom to do whatever she pleased. Her family, land, and title had been stripped and taken from her but she felt content living in Kattegat as just a regular woman without a target on her back.


	16. Chapter XVI

The day of the journey was upon them. They had sacrificed a horse at dawn so that Njörðr, the God of the seafaring and wind would grant them safe passage across the sea to Wessex. Also to Thor to give them strength in battle, and finally, to Óðinn, for his knowledge and protection. It was a crisp and windy day but the sun shone brightly in the sky, the Gods were smiling on them―it was a perfect day for setting upon the waters.

Rollo stood beside his brother on the dock as he observed Freja boarding the ship. She looked so happy and excited, like a child. He glanced over at Ragnar who also had eyes on the young woman. He felt a pang of resentment toward his brother who had failed to stop her from going on the raid. If she were to die, her blood would be on his hands, for he as her Earl had not commanded her to stay in Kattegat.

"Are you ready brother?" Ragnar said as he glanced over at the darker haired man.

Rollo chuckled in agreement as he walked ahead briskly and boarded the ship, his brother not far behind, "Freja," he called as he made his way towards his lover, who was talking to Floki.

"Yes, Rollo?" she looked over her shoulder as he approached.

"I will leave you two to talk," Floki said as he sauntered away, "Hello Rollo,"

"Floki," Rollo nodded at the tall and slender man before taking his place beside Freja and pulling her closer to him by the waist and whispering in her ear, "Do not die on me in Wessex,"

Freja laughed, "I promise you I will not die. I have survived much worse, after all,"

"Still. Do not be reckless. If you were to be killed I do not think I would ever find an ass as perfect as yours again in this lifetime," he said as he squeezed her backside.

"So this is what you want me for, my _perfect_ ass?" she replied as placed her hand atop his and held it to her.

"Among other certain qualities," he nibbled on her ear from behind, "Your hair is like silk and your skin is soft like that of a child,"

Freja smiled and closed her eyes, "Go on..."

Rollo grabbed her hand and brought it to her breast, "Your hands feel like the hands of a goddess upon my body and your breasts fit perfectly in _my_ hands. _The way you taste_...you satisfy me more than any ale or wine ever could,"

"When you speak like this you make me want you so," she said as she turned to face him, "I cannot wait until we reach Wessex. The first thing I want you to do is make love to me,"

"I do not know if I can wait until then," he growled as he leaned down and kissed her hard on her waiting mouth.

* * *

After days of smooth sailing, finally Wessex was visable on the horizon. Seagulls called as they flew overhead and the clouds parted in the sky to reveal the sun. The rolling hills on the land ahead was greener than ever in stark contrast against the deep blue of the ocean and the pale blue of the sky. All of the ships in Ragnar's fleet were nearing the shore and it was a welcome sight for everyone aboard. The horns blew to alert all of the warriors of their arrival. It was time to go ashore and set up their camp beyond the woods.

Freja took her first step on land and smiled up at the sun that shone down upon her face. The still warmth was a welcome feeling after being on the sea with the wind always blowing it's cool air. The camp was being set up and all of the men and women were busy with their tasks.

A few hours later, she was in her tent laying out the furs upon the cot that her and Rollo were to sleep on. The comfort was nothing like home but it would have to do for the time they were to be here.

"Right where I want you," Rollo said as he strode into the tent. Freja's back was to him and she was bent over adjusting the bed.

Freja signed, "I am so ready to relax now,"

"I thought there was something else you wanted to do upon our arrival..." he replied as he grabbed her hips.

"You are right," she said huskily, "Help me to relax, Rollo,"

Rollo leant forward and buried his face in her hair. One hand found its way to her breast and another remained at her hip. She moved to stand straight, perhaps to face him but he pushed her back down and she landed on the bed. The hand that was on her hip moved down into her breeches and began to touch her as she moaned at his touch. _She loved when he took control of her body._ The hand at her breast undid the laces at the front of her tunic and somehow managed to managed to remove it completely. He was skilled at many things and undressing her was one of them. He then pushed her breeches down and removed her undergarments hastily. He couldn't wait to have her, they needed to take advantage of the time they had alone.

The cool air in the tent caused Freja to shiver, "How is it that I am always naked before you are?"

"Do not worry," Rollo said as he removed his tunic and began to undress, "We both shall be warm soon enough.

He kicked their pile of discarded garments aside and pulled her towards him, his large hands cupping her backside. She was flush against him and felt his arousal―she couldn't wait for him to be inside her. They kissed with such passion it made her head spin. He always had such an affect on her, as if he was devouring her with every kiss. He turned her around and guided her gently towards the bed, bending her over. He admired the way she looked before him, naked and waiting, before he swiftly entered her. Many times they had made love gently, and many times they had fucked like animals. Right now, he wanted to _fuck_ her. She felt so good as he pumped in and out of her, so warm. Her moans were soft, he could tell she was holding back in fear of others hearing so close by.

One hand was on her hip, holding her steady for him, the other reached up and grabbed her long, silky hair. He pulled her head back and leaned forward over her body to kiss her mouth. She kissed him so fervently as he pounded into her. He pulled tighter and harder on her hair and with every pull she became louder―mixing pleasure and pain drove her crazy. He pulled on her hair like the strings of an instrument and the moans that came from her were like music to his ears.

* * *

Ragnar and Björn sat by a fire and drank ale once their camp was set up, "Father, I am worried about Rollo. I think he is too distracted with Freja here, that could be bad for him in battle,"

"Your uncle will be fine," Ragnar said as he stared at the flames, "What of you and Þorunn? I am sure that is a similar situation, would you not agree?"

"I told her not to come," Björn admitted.

"Just as Rollo told Freja not to come," Ragnar replied as he met his son's stare, "It seems that we are doomed to be unable to control our women,"

Floki laughed from across the fire, "I am happy I do not have that problem; Helga and I agree on everything,"

"You have a good woman, Floki," Ragnar said, "I fear my brother is not so lucky. He has got himself a woman who will forever challenge him...I do not envy him," he lied.

"What about you, Torstein, tell us of your troubles with women," Floki asked as he gulped down his ale.

"Ha! Troubles...I have troubles," Torstein replied, "I have two women back in Kattegat who are both carrying my child!"

Ragnar smirked at his friend as he told his story to the men. In his own mind, he was elsewhere. He thought of his brother and Freja who had been in their tent since they arrived in Wessex. Thinking of envy, he did envy his brother but he wouldn't dare admit it. Not to anyone, not even to himself. He was pulled away from his thoughts are the sound of laughter in the near distance; he looked over his shoulder and saw Freja emerging from the tent, followed by Rollo. He chuckled to himself and turned his attention back to his men and their stories. _As long as they are happy_, he thought.


	17. Chapter XVII

_**Author's Note: **So I am no longer following the show's storyline anymore, I've decided to just do my own thing! Hope you all still enjoy it. I struggle with writer's block and lately I've been pushing myself to write more, so I hope this doesn't come out as sloppy of rushed. Please leave me some reviews and say hi! x_

* * *

The battle had lasted from dawn until dusk a fortnight after they had arrived in Wessex. It was muddy and violent and bloody. The rain poured down heavily and Thor could be heard striking his anvil in Asgard causing roaring thunder and lightening that lit up the whole sky. The sounds of metal clanging, horses and people screaming filled the air as the Norsemen fought the Saxons. The thick and heady smell of smoke and blood filled the air. As the Earl fought alongside his men, he couldn't help but keep an eye on one young shield maiden―the one whom his brother also kept close by. She fought as gracefully as one could during such a battle. Her hair braided and tied up in a high ponytail, her face splattered with the enemy's blood, the fierce look in her eye...Ragnar stole many glances at her during the long day of fighting. Until it was over.

"Brother! Ragnar!" Rollo called out as he made his way through the camp, as if on a rampage. The battle was over and everyone was tending to their wounds and washing away the day's grime and carnage.

Ragnar heard his brother's shouts and exited his tent to come face to face with him. Rollo stood there, soaked from the rain and still covered in blood and dirt, "Rollo, what is it?"

"Where is she? Have you seen Freja?!" he said, worry prominent in his voice and his brown eyes dark.

"I thought she was with you...after the battle, I saw her head back here," Ragnar explained as he looked around the camp, "Unless..."

"Unless what!" Rollo shouted. He had no time for his brother's games, "She is not here, she is not in our tent, and she is not among the wounded or dead,"

"She has been captured," Ragnar said, "I am sure of it. She is not anywhere to be found, she was not killed. There must have been Saxon spies waiting close to the camp,"

"If they have taken her then surely she is dead by now," Rollo replied angrily.

"Do not be so stupid, brother," Ragnar chided, "They have taken her as a hostage, to use as leverage,"

"Leverage for what?" Rollo asked. He was hot with rage. _How could she have been captured..._

"We shall find out soon enough," Ragnar replied as he turned to walk back into his tent, "For now, we must be patient,"

* * *

Freja was captured after the battle by the Saxons and they were bringing her to see King Ecbert at his villa in the Kingdom of Wessex. They had spared her because she spoke some of their language to them when they attacked her and that made her a valuable hostage. Perhaps they thought she could provide information on the agenda of the "heathen army". The rope tied around her wrists burned as she struggled to loosen them―these men had tied them too tight and they cut into her tender flesh. She was in such a vulnerable position but she was thankful none of these strange men had tried to touch her. If they had and her hands were free, they would be the ones screaming.

The distance from her camp and this kingdom was not as great as she expected. Her captors had brought her there within just a few hours. It was now so dark out that only the moon and stars in the sky served as illumination on this journey against her will. They entered what appeared to be a large courtyard and suddenly came to a stop. One of the men got off of his horse and made his way over to her, dragging her roughly out of the prisoner's caravan. She stumbled out and struggled to stand steadily on her feet with all of the bindings and after sitting in such cramped quarters for so long, her body was stiff. As her captors pushed and dragged her into the king's villa, Freja wondered why they were not roughing her up more. She was a prisoner after all but perhaps their king did not want to receive his prisoner bruised and bloody.

* * *

Freja was ushered into a room that resembled a great hall except more ornate and covered in riches. Their were colourful tapestries and gold and silver seemed to gleam from every corner. The candlelight illuminated the large room. As she took in her surroundings, she was met by a middle aged man, dressed in finery with a golden crown atop his head. _This is the king,_ she thought. He had blue eyes and they seemed to twinkle as he looked at her.

"Hello," the man with the neatly trimmed mustache and beard said, "My name is King Ecbert,"

"You speak my language?" Freja replied with a raised brow.

"I have studied some of your language, yes," he said before switching to English, "Just as you have learned my native tongue. Now tell me, are you the wife of Ragnar Lothbrok?"

Freja thought carefully before she spoke, "No I am not his wife; I am with his brother―not married but we are together,"

"Ahhh, that fierce beast of a man...my men told me of him and his prowess on the battlefield," the King explained, "I am told he fights like a crazy bear,"

"Enough of this talk, please tell me what you wish to do with me," she said. She was growing annoyed. Did he mean to have her killed?

"First, tell me your name," he demanded, "All of this talk you speak of and you still have not introduced yourself before a King,"

"My name is Freja," she replied stiffly.

"Now tell me, Freja, how is it that a woman from Scandinavia, such as yourself has come to learn our English language?"

"Back where I am from, we have an English priest called Athelstan, my Earl acquired him during a previous..._visit_...to England," Freja explained, "Him and I exchanged knowledge of our cultures,"

"Ah, from the Lindisfarne monastery in Northumbria?" he replied, "I had heard from King Ælle of that particular invasion from your people―so much treasure stolen, so many innocent lives taken in cold blood,"

"_Yes_," she replied, "Now, King Ecbert, I wish to know why you had me brought to you. Surely my people are looking for me and they will come for me...why am I here?"

"Well, Freja," the king said as he played with his beard, "Little did you all know, I had some of my people watching your camp for awhile now and I was told that you were the wife of Ragnar Lothbrok. It appears that they made an error but no matter, since you are with his brother, you are still a valuable guest of mine,"

"Guest," Freja seethed, "I believe you mean _hostage_?"

"No no no, my dear," he laughed, "I have no intention of keeping you prisoner here―you will be a guest at my villa. However, you will be heavily guarded. For your own protection, of course,"

"To what end?" she asked.

"I need you to serve as bait," he went on, "I wish to meet with Ragnar to discuss a truce. Considering him and his warriors killed so many of mine, I cannot initiate contact without leverage. But he must come here to my villa, unaccompanied,"

Freja chuckled, "Ragnar is no fool..."

King Ecbert held up his hand, "See, the plan is that you and I will ride together at first light. With protection, of course, and _you_ will ask Ragnar to come with us so we can talk, man to man, and _you_ will assure him that no harm will come to him whilst he is my guest,"

* * *

Freja rode on a grey and white spotted mare alongside King Ecbert who was on his proud white stallion, their horses were connected by a rope to ensure that she would not try to escape or run ahead. Behind them, was a fraction of the king's army prepared to fight the Northmen, should anything go wrong. The king looked over at the young woman riding beside him and studied her stony expression, eyes narrowed and fixed forward as her long ash brown hair blew in the wind. Her people's camp was just coming into view on the horizon, it was dawn and smoke was still in the air from the previous night's fires. The stench of death from the battle still clung in the air. Ecbert shouted to his army to stay behind as him and Freja rode forward, closer to the camp.

As they approached, Ragnar was emerging from his tent. His eyes met Freja's and with a single look he seemed to understand. He glanced around the camp and observed that nobody was awake yet, not even Floki. He picked up a nearby battle axe and walked toward Freja and her strange Saxon companion.

"I knew you were not dead," he said to Freja, ignoring the man next to her as if only she existed, "I told them all we would see you again,"

"Ragnar...this is King Ecbert of Wessex," she spoke slowly and clearly in their language, "He wishes no harm, only that you come peacefully, alone, to speak with him at his villa. He wishes to call a truce,"

King Ecbert smiled down at Ragnar, "Hello, Ragnar Lothbrok, a pleasure it is to finally meet you in the flesh,"

Ragnar ignored the king after looking him up and down, "Tell him I will go with him,"

"Tell him yourself," Freja replied, "You spend more time with Athelstan than I, you have knowledge of their language as well as I do,"

Ragnar chuckled, "Sometimes knowledge is best kept to oneself,"

Freja turned her attention to the king, "Ragnar will go with you," she made a move to dismount her horse.

"Where do you think you're going?" Ecbert said to her, "You are coming as well. Do not fret, you will both be free to go _after_ I speak with your Earl and work out a deal that can benefit both of our people,"

Just then, more voices were heard throughout the camp and Freja spotted Björn and Floki walking hastily towards Ragnar. Björn demanded to know what was going on.

"Father. What is going on?" he said carefully, noting the Saxon army far in the distance.

"This is King Ecbert, he is king of this land," Ragnar explained, "He wants me to go and speak with him, call off the fighting and perhaps give us land here in England,"

Floki sneered. He did not care about a truce with the Christians, he just wanted to fight and bring home treasures as they did before, "Are you going to go with him, this _king of Christians_, Ragnar?"

"I am, yes," he replied. He looked to his left and saw his brother coming to see what the discussion was about.

Freja looked over at Rollo who was shirtless, clad only in leather pants. Once he saw her, his eyes went wide and then softened. She jumped off her mount, ignoring King Ecbert, and ran towards her lover. She jumped into Rollo's strong arms and he held her close to him, burying his face in her messy, windblown hair. After a moment, he placed his strong hands on her shoulders and his eyes bore into her, his gaze serious.

"Freja, what is this?" Rollo demanded, "I thought you were dead!"

"Rollo...I am so happy to be back with you...but I must go once more," she explained, "That man is King Ecbert and he wants to speak with your brother; he wants me to go too, to help the two of them communicate. I will go and they will make a deal between our people, and then Ragnar and I will both return,"

"You are not going anywhere," Rollo stated, "I do not trust these Christians or their king,"

"There is an army over the hill and people will die if we do not go peacefully," she replied, "Ragnar has already agreed,"

"My brother is a fool," he shook his head, "We can fight and kill them all,"

"That is not what we have come here for!" Freja exclaimed, "Ragnar has always dreamt of building a settlement here and farming the lands, Lagertha told me of this. King Ecbert is willing to grant him land in exchange for peace,"

"Then let him deal with this," he replied, "You are staying here with me,"

"Rollo, I am going," she grabbed his face and kissed him long and hard before breaking away and resting her forehead against his, "You must trust me. I swear it by the Gods, I _will_ come back to you,"


End file.
